


love (and corner men) are elusive

by Trilies



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Boxing & Fisticuffs, British Slang, Embedded Images, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Mangled British Slang, Multiple names, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24945094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trilies/pseuds/Trilies
Summary: The job was supposed to be simple: start up a boxing match in the area under their lord's orders. Chikusa never expected anything else to really happen.... at least not on his end. He doesn't even box; he's just the corner man for Ken.So he'd really like to know how he might have gotten sort of kidnapped into staying in a noble's manor.
Relationships: Hibari Kyoya/Kakimoto Chikusa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: KHR Rare Pair Week 2020





	love (and corner men) are elusive

The first time he meets Kyoya Hibari, it's under the name of "Ciro", and he's just watched the man knock his partner out completely cold with a single well placed punch.   
  
Ken is outraged once he comes to, of course, but that's a solid minute after the bout ended. In other words, after he's already been declared the loser. Once he's been forced to sit back down instead of jerking up onto his feet when he can barely keep himself steady, Ken snaps his teeth in aggravation. "Dammit!" he curses up at the cloudy sky that's high above them, and which somehow hadn't deterred such a large audience at all. "If this was a real fight instead of by these weak boxing rules, I would have won instead!"   
  
It's not too unusual to hear such talk falling from Ken's lips and too sharp teeth, and a lot of the time it's even true. His confidence in his fighting prowess is part of why the two of them are here in the first place. Yet in this particular case, Ciro is pretty sure that such talk is all hollow. He'd never claim to be as good a brawler as Ken, because frankly he finds it a nuisance to deal with from the set up to the aftermath, but his eyes, he's glad to say, have always been rather keen. Kyoya Hibari's stance had been dripping with experience, and footwork and jabs alike had been so quick that even Ciro had to admit he was somewhat impressed at the time.   
  
He'll never tell that to _Ken_ , however, and so he just gives a dull shrug. "Either way, you got more than your share of bastings for this," he says simply. "So before you start up your usual discourse, let's just go."  
  
There's complaining, as there often is with Ken when things don't go his way, but Ciro is well versed in ignoring it now. He's done his part, which is cleaning his partner up after Ken ended up flat on his back with bruises no doubt guaranteed to bloom all across his body by the morrow, and so he doesn't much feel the need to do anymore. Instead, he ignores the grumblings, and just pushes himself up onto his feet so that he can get a good look at the rest of the lot that's gathered around for the fights today.

It's quite a gathering, really, and Ciro has seen more than a few at this point. The main event had indeed been his Ken, and that was how it should have been. They'd made quite a bit of boasting of just how many other bruisers that the wild blond could take out and, up until half an hour ago, that had actually been going fairly well. No one wanted to see a match that only took five seconds because the other guy had hit the dirt so thoroughly. The rings for these sort of things have to be done outside of town, or at least most of the time they do, and that means it takes at least a little effort to bother coming. Why do all of that for something where you could blink and miss all the exciting bits?   
  
And Ken _has_ made a name for himself - or, rather, Ken's done all the heavy punching, while Ciro and their lord have done all the gossip so that his name has come to mean something. In a subtle way, of course. No one needs to know this was all a little game their lord wanted to play. That doesn't mean Ken is anything but the genuine thing, and at this point Ciro has had to do less and less work as more and more people have seen the facts with their own two eyes. So along with the simple brazen idea that one man could take out multiple opponents in a single day, why, then they'd had reason to believe it. And maybe there'd been another reason for people to come, too.   
  
After all.... This area was chosen for a particular reason. It's not because of how large it is, the ground perfectly flat so that no one man might have the advantage of height over his opponent. It's not because it can accommodate the dozens - maybe a good hundred and even more - people that have come to visit, all who Ciro can clearly see from his vantage point besides Ken. It's not even because of how well kept the nearby town is, with fine drinking and gambling establishments along with inns where one can stay the night.

Rather, it's all because of the very man who bowled Ken right over, and the man who Ciro's eyes inevitably land on. Kyoya Hibari is quite a peculiar fellow. That much is true even from a distance, as he watches the man's servants hold up a sheet and many others behind it are clearly helping their master dress up once again in all his dandy clothing. Even if he can't see the details, Ciro can understand that much. What he can't understand is just what their own lord is planning, having them set up a match right on the soil of the person whose manor is nearest to this town, and is essentially Kyoya Hibari's land.   
  
Then again, maybe he doesn't need to wonder that hard. Their lord always does like toying with others, and there's no better nonsense to kick up than starting a boxing match on the land of a man notorious for his participation in it. It would be one thing if Kyoya Hibari were simply a patron of boxers, or particular men, and that is certainly a thing he apparently indulges in by more than a bit. Everyone knows he brought together an association of sorts, one meant to organize matches, pay the men involved, keep things as fair and proper as they could be unless strictly organized for whatever reason. That's fine. Somewhat ambitious, but certainly fine.   
  
What is a lot more queer is Kyoya Hibari's _participation_ in the sport. Ciro isn't an idiot, and he has a perfectly fine functioning pair of eyes, so long as his spectacles are on his face. He's seen that the kind of men who participate in matches aren't the same kind of men who fund them, and are not the kind of men to care so dearly about their appearance or who have servants to tend to them. Kyoya Hibari is the exception, which is something Ciro had overheard long before they'd set up this fight and which had become incredibly obvious when he'd strode up to the ring with his jacket already off of his shoulders.   
  
Some sport is good, allegedly, for a man of the gentry to indulge in, but usually not in such a manner, and usually not with such _talent_. Somehow, Ciro thinks he can still see some of that physical skill in Kyoya Hibari even when the other man is fully dressed as he steps out from behind the makeshift curtain his servants had made. There's a... grace to his movement that Ciro doesn't think he's ever seen in well-to-do society before, something far different than what other people have at their balls or striding about town. People like that, they're all uniform, because society is about conformity once you get to a certain level - or even most levels. It's the British idea of what is _right_ , essentially.   
  
Ciro has opinions of that, but he's learned to keep them to himself. Besides, Ken has very much the same, and is louder for it, so he speaks what both of them think.  
  
Kyoya Hibari does not have that same kind of conformed-to grace, however. If Ciro had to make the comparison... He would gladly compare every other bit of fine British nobility to that of trained but toothless dogs who look very fine indeed and yet would be wild and useless if order were to fall apart. Kyoya Hibari's grace is that of a wolf, with eyes that are far too bright despite their pitch blackness, and something about him that carries a hint of fang. The rest of his lot, the help he's hired and apparently kept with him for many years now, are all his pack, and they follow him almost wordlessly in a way he doesn't think he's seen many others in such stations do nearly half as well. Most of those fine lords and ladies, they have to bark out their orders. Kyoya Hibari just assumes the world will bend to his will, and his servants at least make it so.   
  
Faintly, Ciro thinks of their lord, and how he is more a fox than anything. The world, both natural and that of the gentry, would do cruel things to a fox. Yet they are clever beasts, a fact that folk tales never fail to remind people about, and his fox of a lord especially seems to take delight in tricking those who would see him skinned.   
  
Well, it's none of his business, he decides, and looks away from where Kyoya Hibari is mounting some fine Arabian mare that calms instantly at the man's touch. Instead, he just raises an eyebrow down at Ken, who's still grumbling while he ties his shoes. "Come on... Let's go take in some dutch comforts at the places they have in town... We can tell our master, then, how _this_ whole venture has gone."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, you duke of limbs," Ken mutters finally hauling himself up onto his feet with a grunt. " _Dutch comforts_. You got a bull calf in your mouth, you know that?"   
  
"Maybe, but the bull calf's not wrong."

* * *

The second time he meets Kyoya Hibari, it's at one of the molly houses in town, of which there are apparently _many_.

Ciro is well versed in sniffing them out, ever since he was young and growing up back in Italy, stumbling upon one such meeting place by pure accident. The people there had been nice, honestly. Nicer than most people he met when he was a child, scrapping for a living on the streets since his family only cared to handle him when he was useful and yet didn't want to put in the resources or time for him.   
  
Yet things were different with those folks of the back door. To this day, he doesn't know if he was simply lucky in meeting such a decent lot. They hired him to do minor chores about the place, and fed him as a part of his pay - although perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he was paid in money by his 'employer', and the regulars who attended the place paid for his secrecy in food. Looking back on it, he supposes that bit was likely started as insurance. Such indulgences and preferences are things that always seem to run into trouble, especially with the church glaring at the slightest step out of place. To find someone who would work willingly, for cheap, and not snitch on them without being a part of them yet... It was a difficult thing, back then. Bribing a child with food wasn't really that bad of an idea.   
  
It's everything after the food bribery that Ciro is fairly certain made them good people. They didn't need to teach him to read, but they did. They didn't need to teach him how to read a map, but they did. More than a few of those people were those of some decent standing, too, and they gladly told him all manner of things that he took to heart as lessons. There was his arithmetic, history, even things like proper manners for those of more noble birth. He'd even been lucky to hear about a few of the sciences that were thought to come about, especially in places such as Britain or the United States.   
  
They'd liked him, especially when he'd just quietly asked them about certain things they did, such as why they preferred man, or why some of them liked to dress in the manner more often reserved for women, never with any judgment but with a simple curiosity much like when he was trying to understand his numbers. In turn, Ciro supposes he'd rather liked them. His family had certainly made the bar rather low to clear.   
  
When the police had finally done a raid on the place, sending some folks scattering while others were punished for the crime of living, Ciro had objected in his own way. "His own way" had meant that a half a dozen police officers had found themselves poisoned one day, and the authorities had gone wild trying to find the murderer. They'd never have suspected that such a small child could have been responsible for it... but his lord had, and the resulting long story is how he finds himself in England.   
  
It also goes a great deal into explaining how he's found himself in a place called _The Far Guard_ , which is a rather stoic and proud name for a place that seems to be so rowdy and flamboyant once he's stepped through the doors and stayed a while. In the day, well, it's apparently perfectly fine for "polite society", although Ciro from his table in the corner still can spot more than a few men whose faces are just a little too close or people who duck away to other parts of the tavern where they're less likely to be found. It's the kind of thing that's only noticed when you're looking, which most people might not. All Ciro _does_ half the time, whether on his own or by request of his lord, is look.   
  
By the time the evening rolls around, things start to get more... vibrant, both in tone and in color. Flirting is more overt between people, kisses traded easily as air, and everyone begins to wear whatever they want - partially because it helps them be a little less recognized by anyone who might, partially because this is clearly the kind of place where anything is allowed. What Ciro is particularly interested in is not only the variety there, but the variety of the _people_. Going to Ken's match the other day had been useful in more than one way, as it had allowed him to get a good glance at the many different sorts about, from the traveling lords and ladies to the more common folk who just wanted a good show. He sees _both_ groups in The Far Guard, mixing in a way that he had never caught a glimpse of at the boxing ring.   
  
How peculiar, honestly, that much like the way romance and gender is blurred together, so are the lines between the classes. Ciro thinks of all the other molly houses he's gone to in the country, even in the thick and populous streets of London, and feels it different, somehow.   
  
He's lost in thought, pondering this while also absolutely ignoring a man trying to chat him up with drinks between them both, when Kyoya Hibari enters the building.   
  
While he's often always been sharp eyed, the first to spot a change in something or the arrival of a person, this time feels a little different. Kyoya Hibari's appearance is like the ringing of a church bell where, even if Ciro was the first person to spot the way the clapper hit the bowl, the sound - the _presence_ \- gets everyone's attention at exactly the same time. The Far Guard becomes a little more subdued, and people suddenly step a bit back from both the entrance and the bar so that nothing is in his way. This means that Ciro's table suddenly finds a couple more at it, one even seated on the edge of the table itself from how they were forced to back up.  
  
Kyoya Hibari doesn't join anyone. All he does is cast a cool gaze around the place, taking in those who are assembled tonight, before he exchanges a few words with the man behind the bar. That seems to satisfy him before he turns on his heel and promptly leaves the room. Not the building, only the room, going upstairs and disappearing out of sight with his usual retinue trailing behind him.   
  
After that, the whole building seems to fall into hushed whispers, and Ciro can barely overhear everything. So many people chattering away at once in the exact same volume - the words all seem to blend together like spilled drinks. They're all unique conversations, he knows that, but fallen together... They mix into no less than pure nothingness.   
  
Telling apart the emotions is a little easier, because Ciro can look at people's faces to get a better idea of their thoughts. At least more than a couple - actually, the vast majority, now that he takes a good wide look - seem to be at least a little anxious. That fits in with what Ciro has heard of the man, in that he's strict and prefers his space and seems to hate the vast majority of social gatherings to the point that apparently certain well-to-do individuals _boast_ if he has agreed to come to any of their gatherings.

Others seem _excited_ , in one form or another, the same way a girl with a crush might get all in a titter might see the other passing by, while others are the exact way Ciro saw some men eagerly await the start of a match. Then the people who seem to be almost the least affected, idly curious and nothing else, bothering any one of their neighbors at tables. Ciro can't tell if they're in the same boat as he is, lacking context for this particular event, or if they're the kind of people who never seem to react to any sort of pressure... which is _another_ boat he's in.   
  
That's where fortune favors him, when it shoved so many people at his table. One of those dressed as the alleged fairer sex - Ciro would never say if so-called Proper Society would agree, and doesn't care - turns to his former one-sided conversation partner with their hand acting as a makeshift fan. "Well! Perhaps we should have expected this!" As the pair launch into a lively conversation, Chikusa drinks his beer and just listens in. It's not really eavesdropping if they're having it right in front of him, right?   
  
Not a lot of context is present for this talk, but that's more than fine, as Chikusa is used to gathering up information and figuring out context all on his own. Besides, the most important thing doesn't need any context besides the places he's been: the match not that long ago, and being here at The Far Guard. Apparently, whenever he's incredibly satisfied with the state of things, Kyoya Hibari drops by The Far Guard or any of the other molly houses that seem to populate the town, looking over everything as though picking the perfect cherry to place atop his desert. Ciro hadn't thought that beating up Ken would be so cathartic, but, well, different card suites for different gamblers, and all that.   
  
There's not a lot of time to listen to much more of that as he quietly sips at his drink, although Ciro is incredibly invested in it as it exists. The talk feels as though it's veering close to explain why there are so many different molly houses in a way he's never seen before, and why there doesn't seem to be a police problem quite like in London... but then there's another interruption.   
  
Unlike Kyoya Hibari, this one is a lot more subtle and seems to have less of an effect on the rest of the bar, although people still glance up at the figure descending down the stairs. Ciro recognizes him almost immediately, too, if only because he's been so present with Kyoya Hibari that his mind can make the connection. Sure, he doesn't know the man's name, but he knows that he is one of the servants of the peculiar man. In fact, likely one of the most valued ones, considering how he's always walked just right behind Kyoya Hibari on his right - an almost literal right hand, probably.   
  
One thing for sure is that his hairstyle is absolutely outdated by at least a couple of decades. The other thing for sure is that he's walking right towards Ciro. The rest of the bar begins to watch eagerly, and it doesn't escape Ciro that his tablemates have subtly ditched him. Fantastic. That only makes him all the more noticeable. Sighing, he tilts his head back to finish off the rest of his beer.   
  
If there are any compliments to be given out in this whole mess, it's that the right hand man patiently waits for Ciro to put down his empty tankard. "My master would like to see you," he says simply and upfront, and it doesn't escape Ciro how many people seem to be straining their ears in order to listen in on this exchange.   
  
Ciro wonders, faintly, if he could get away with taking another but full tankard with him into this meeting, and if it would make the result any better. Reasonably, he knows he couldn't and, even if he could, it probably wouldn't help. He also wonders if there's any point in pretending he has no idea what's going on. Probably not. "Is this going to be troublesome?" he asks, flicking the tip of his cap up as he takes in the man.   
  
"It is not outside of possibility," he responds, which is the most honest things Ciro thinks he's ever heard a servant or someone connected to higher classes say.   
  
Well, if he tries to run off, then that will probably just stir up a bigger fuss, especially if there was no reason to do so in the first place. Ken would love all the trouble, undoubtedly, but all that tells Ciro is that he absolutely ought to not follow such an inclination. And who knows? It might not be as bad as it otherwise could... and his lord did tell him to heckle Kyoya Hibari or figure out more about him and his land. This is clearly a rare opportunity to do so.   
  
So, with a sigh, Ciro finally hauls himself out of his chair, and he takes note from the corner of his eye how more than a few people blink as they finally realize how _tall_ he is. "Yeah... Fine. Let's go, then."   
  
At least he doesn't have to go _far_ , which is one of the single good things about this whole mess. Unlike the cheerfully crowded dining and bar area, the upper floor of the tavern seems to be almost completely empty save for men dressed in rigid servant black positioned every some feet along the hallway to a room at the end. Well, they may be dressed like servants, but, to Ciro's eye, they hold themselves almost more like they're soldiers, with perfect posture and their hands folded just so. This, for some mysterious reason he could not possibly ever name, does not make him feel more at ease about this whole situation.   
  
The right hand steps forward to open the door first, announcing, "The bottle man for the boxer from the other day is here." With that done, he holds the door wide open and steps to the side in order to let Ciro have uninhibited access into the room.   
  
It's... definitely not a regular tavern room, that much is obvious almost immediately. Instead of there being just a bed and some basic furniture to put away clothes or the like, there is instead an actual desk there, with bookshelves placed around the perimeter. They aren't poorly made, either, but crafted from excellent wood and with the cushions on the chairs decorated subtly but finely. If he'd seen it without Kyoya Hibari there waiting for him behind the desk, Ciro would wonder if this were the tavern owner's office. Why the hell _Kyoya Hibari_ has it is... Well, it only adds to the strangeness that this part of England is apparently full of.

Those dark eyes sweep over Ciro just as easily as they'd swept over the bar downstairs, which is when he realizes he had to have recognized him from only a brief glimpse at the match and yet didn't react at all for the brief glimpse down there. That reminds him of someone else, he thinks, but Ciro doesn't have much time to think harder on that before Kyoya Hibari speaks up. "So... You're the rat scurrying around in my home, are you?"   
  
Uuuuugh. He hopes this isn't a case of mistaken identity. Ciro has enough to deal with before he gets involved in that kind of thing, although he wouldn't want to regardless. "I've never been there," he mutters, although he's pretty sure he'd seen it from a distance before. It had been kind of hard to miss with how much land Kyoya Hibari apparently has, and Ciro had to venture around a lot to find a good place for the match. "Unless you mean these lands overall..."   
  
Kyoya Hibari leans back, his fingers laced together as he coolly smirks at Ciro. "So you have no interest in trying to get back at me for stepping outside what some mistakenly believe are my bounds, or harming that partner of yours?"   
  
Hm. Is that a regular enough occurrence that Kyoya Hibari thinks Ciro would do it? That he's in fact had to deal with plenty of sullen boxers or their associates who couldn't stand that such a dandy or nobleman would win and possibly ruin all their plans? He can see that, and quite easily. It's a well known fact that certain matches can and are rigged, depending on how well one can buy a bruiser, or in what circles the fights take place in. When it comes to money, all's fair, in that it isn't.   
  
Well, there's good news for Kyoya Hibari, then, although it's up in the air if he'll believe it. Ciro forces his shoulders upwards in a lazy roll of a shrug, putting a little more effort into it than he normally would otherwise. People like Ken or his lord are well versed in seeing all the little gestures he makes, but he feels it might be worth the energy to make sure it's more visible to a person like this. He _really_ doesn't want to make this more of a hassle than it needs to be. "You fought him and you won. I don't see why there's a reason to get involved in that... I'm not him. I just patch him up whenever he does something stupid..."   
  
Kyoya Hibari stares at him for a minute longer, as if using his very eyes to dig past muscle and organs into the very bone of him, before he tilts his chin up imperiously. "I see. Why have you been staying in town, then?"   
  
So _that's_ what has gotten the man breathing down Ciro's neck tonight. Well, at least Ciro can kind of understand that. After all, if someone wanted to jump Hibari, wouldn't it be easier to stay in town and then eventually slip out for payback? Ugh. All he wanted to do was get a drink, maybe admire how other people looked that _weren't_ Ken or his lord. Ciro likes how the two of them look, for different reasons, but variety is the spice of life.   
  
Sighing, Ciro leans back and holds himself back from rolling his head to look up at the ceiling. He definitely doesn't want to be here now, but, then again, running would have just made him and Ken look more suspicious. "We were waiting for our patron to arrive here," he explains, "which we'd planned ahead of time.... He had an interest in hearing how the fight had gone. Although he didn't find it important enough to watch it.... clearly. Last I heard, he didn't have any plans to order us to go after you. Who knows if he has something else in mind after... I just do what I'm told and paid for." He's a common man, with more than a little knowledge in the various illegal and immoral things. That's all he really can do.   
  
There's a twitch of Kyoya Hibari's lips, something that adds a different dimension to his smirk that Ciro can't entirely read. Maybe it's amusement? When it comes to deeper stuff like that, Ciro isn't well versed in it. He can understand the surface thoughts, but anything more subtle than that... "Who is your patron?"  
  
Ugh. He would ask that. Ciro sighs again, and ponders for a quick second how he should answer. The problem is.... Well. It's complicated.   
  
And the reason it's complicated is because his patron, lord, and master isn't any person of either old blood or new.   
  
That's not even going into the fact that Ciro isn't entirely sure which name to give to Kyoya Hibari. His lord seems to be fond of _many_ , something he gets away with by hiring a great many people to do his work so that he doesn't have to show his face, and is just as prone to disposing most of them, save for Ciro and Ken. For various bits of work that would make more than a few people suspicious, he's taken a shine to _Faustino Corvi_. When he wants to trip people up with a proper British sounding name that would surely belong to a self-respecting gentleman, he goes with _Ambrose Stone_ \- the perfect mix of fancy and plain, with a hint of hidden meaning behind it that he loves to use so much.   
  
Recently, apparently because of his recent fascination with Kyoya Hibari if Ciro had to guess, he's dug deep into Japanese names, and asked that Ciro and Ken personally call him _Mukuro Rokudo_. It's not a name that would fit well on a British tongue, Ciro is sure, but him and Ken are Italian to their bones. It's just close enough for them to say it well enough, and that seems to please their lord quite a bit.   
  
Which has been fine, in Ciro's day to day life of working for him, but is kind of a problem when he's standing in front of the person who could arguably be called the boxing champion of the world and doesn't seem particularly opposed in holding back should Ciro not give him an acceptable answer. Ciro tilts his head to the side, a slow movement that's all him and has nothing to do with the situation. "...I'd rather not, honestly."   
  
"And why is that?" Kyoya Hibari's eyes narrow, just slightly, and Ciro is distantly reminded of certain types of predators.   
  
Well, there's no helping it, with his back against a wall like this. "It seems like that would make the whole situation really troublesome," he says plainly. "I'd rather not deal with that kind of thing, or get dragged into it. Can I just... tell him that you want to speak with him, and let you two deal with it on your own...?"  
  
There's that little lip twitch again, and Kyoya Hibari raises his eyebrows before he raises his whole body onto his feet next. He circles around what is apparently his own personal tavern desk, coming to a stop in front of Ciro, who's stayed standing ever since he first entered the room. Compared to Ciro, the man is really rather short, and yet that doesn't take away the knowledge that he could very well down Ciro with ease if he were so inclined.

He doesn't. At least, not yet. Instead, all he says is, "Do you know where you are?"   
  
"In punching distance."   
  
" _Ha_." The laugh is such a soft and short sound, more like a gust of air than a syllable, that Ciro almost doesn't think he's actually heard it. All he can do is stare, while Kyoya Hibari continues to wear that unreadable little smirk of his. Now, Ciro is starting to think the other man is _amused_. "So at least you know your place to some degree...Good." There's another look over Ciro, his face in particular, and something in that stare seems to sharpen a little. "...Are you Japanese?"   
  
Well, while it's not the conversational turn Ciro was expecting, he's also not particularly surprised or offended by the question. Whether in Italy or Britain, he's had a lot of people ask him questions about his bloodline. Most of the time, for people he doesn't really care about, which is most people, he just shrugs a little bit. He doesn't see a reason why he should bend to the whims of every random stranger who's noticed that his features are foreign to that of the native British types and, frankly, it's none of their business most of the time anyway. What would they even do with the information? Even *he* doesn't do anything with it, besides wonder about where his mother came from.   
  
But in this case... It might do him some good, at least with someone like Kyoya Hibari, who's clearly foreign born himself. So Chikusa... doesn't so much as nod as much as he shrugs once again. "Half," he answers simply. He doubts Kyoya Hibari cares about his whole life story, and he couldn't give him a whole lot of it anyway. His father was a bastard who got rightfully murdered, and he doesn't even have the faintest memories of his mother anymore.   
  
Kyoya Hibari makes a faint noise of understanding under his breath, and stays silent for a couple minutes more before he asks another question. "What is your name?"  
  
"Ciro Esposito."   
  
"Did you receive a Japanese name?"   
  
The answer to that is _allegedly_ he did. Ciro has no idea if that's true or not, if only because he learned long ago that he couldn't trust the words that came out of his family's mouth. His father used to try a lot of bullshit on him in order to make him go quiet, or convince him into something that was for his own selfish gain. Still, it's the only one he knows, and, well, he guesses there's no real harm to it. "Kakimoto Chikusa," he answers, using the traditional Japanese way of introducing his name. It's something he's privately surprised the British haven't taken into their own society like they've taken so much else from other countries, considering how important they find one's family to be in the case of nobility and anyone with enough money.   
  
He doesn't know why it's of interest to Kyoya Hibari, exactly, but Ciro figures it's not in his place to ask. Instead, he just patiently waits for the man to finish... whatever he's doing, which mostly seems to be looking at Ciro and thinking. Finally, he seems to come to some sort of conclusion, and snaps his fingers. Ciro wasn't looking, but he can hear the right hand step back into the room. "Kusakabe. We have a guest room, don't we?"   
  
...Ciro doesn't like the sound of this.   
  
The man apparently named Kusakabe replies, "Yes, sir." Ciro doesn't want to take his eyes off of Kyoya Hibari, but he can't help but wonder if Kusakabe is also in that same military resting position.   
  
"Then we'll be taking this man back with us to the manor, to ensure that nothing happens."   
  
Ugh. _Ugh_. This is what he gets for trying to find somewhere with people to relax. Next time, he'll just put up with Ken's stink and lay in the bed with his heads amongst the clouds. Ciro doesn't even ask if he gets a choice in the matter, because he very clearly isn't. Instead, he just slumps his shoulders and glances over to the desk. "Can I at least... write and send off a letter to my partner... If I don't come back eventually, he'll throw a fit, and then we'll all have to deal with that..." Ciro doesn't want to deal with the consequences of whatever nonsense Ken gets up to when he's upset.   
  
In what can almost be thought of as gracious, Kyoya Hibari allows this, and Ciro makes sure not to spend much more than a single sheet of paper for his note. He's even fortunate enough that someone agrees to take it to Ken, for a bit of coin. Hopefully they're a reliable enough sort; Ciro doesn't have enough experience or knowledge of this town to say one way or the other. All he can do is assume, or else Ken can be _their_ problem.   
  
There's a carriage waiting right outside The Far Guard, the owner quite obvious just from a single glance, but the owner in question doesn't step inside of it. To Ciro's surprise, instead one of Kyoya Hibari's manservants opens the door for _him_. Well, it's better than riding a horse, even if this might lead to his corpse being dumped in a river or empty field or... something. He's not really familiar with Kyoya Hibari enough to guess at how he prefers to dispose of bodies. All Ciro does is wordlessly accept, settling down into a carriage with one other man - Kusakabe - and tug his cap a little over his eyes a bit while he looks outside the window from the side.   
  
If they try to take him to some other place, off the beaten path, then... Ciro will likely not be able to remember his surroundings well enough, on the fact that he can't _see_ them. That could be a problem, although he's managed to somehow survive and find his way back to towns when lost in the forest before. It's something he and Ken are well versed in, if only because sometimes they have to not exist in towns for a while. That doesn't mean he _wants_ it to happen... but he learned a long time ago that he has to prepare for the worst.   
  
It's the only way to be sure.

With that kind of casual pessimism a regular visitor to his mind, it's a pleasant surprise that Kyoya Hibari genuinely does take him to the Hibari manor, a building whose fine details he can only catch a slight glimpse of before he's escorted inside properly. There, even more servants are waiting for their return. The move smoothly, smooth as water, taking their master's coat and ready to attend to his every need at only the slightest word spoken.   
  
Ignoring the hustle and bustle around him, Kyoya Hibari looks dismissively back at Ciro. "Kusakabe will show you to your room. You will meet me in the morning to discuss more about your intentions here."   
  
He didn't _have_ any intentions in the first place, let alone in the Hibari Manor. All he wanted to do was drink, eat a meal, and enjoy the pleasant imagery of various men with more than a few who fit his particular tastes. Ciro doesn't say that, and he doesn't complain. All he does is give an idle nod, looking over the entrance way. "Mhm. Then... Good night." He's not really that invested on if Kyoya Hibari has a good night or not, but it's the polite thing to say, and there's not really any sort of farewell that lets a person know you'd rather they fall down the stairs, get some sort of trauma to the head, and let you go on your merry way.   
  
So, there's really only "good bye" that he can use.   
  
The room Kusakabe guides him to is probably the nicest room Ciro has ever been allowed to so much as touch, let alone stay in, that he can recall in his entire life... burglaries not counting. It's an impressively large room, instead of being just small enough for a bed and dresser, and one glide of his fingertips along the bedsheets almost literally tells him how expensive they were. Even with his tendency towards laziness, Ciro manages to stay up just so he can make his way around the room for a good look at it, and that tends to work out in his favor. If he'd been on his own, he would have just gone to sleep in his own clothes. Yet not long after Kusakabe leaves him, another servant steps in to deposit what are apparently some spare sleeping clothes.   
  
Ciro doesn't think he's _ever_ been in another person's house and had them able to offer spare sleeping clothes. He doesn't think he's ever even _heard_ of that before.   
  
Waste not, want not... He guesses. It's not like they can steal his clothes and think that will trap him. He's not some hoity toity noble who would fuss about running barefoot. So he changes, taking a small amount of pleasure in having a washcloth and water pan to clean himself in. When he tries the door, he finds that it's not locked... so, if he really wanted to, he could probably make an escape. The hallways were well lit, and his memory is sharp, so the only real difficulty would be potentially stumbling onto servants who were finishing up their chores for the day. He wouldn't even have to worry about making it back to town, although it would take him more than a few bloody hours to get there.   
  
Just thinking about that makes him tired. Still, it's not only that reasoning which makes Ciro decide not to do it. Rather... if his lord really wanted to stir things up with this Kyoya Hibari, wanted to get under his skin or find out more about him, then this is a benefit of sorts, right? And it's a beneficial situation that Ciro didn't even have to work very hard for. All he did was be in the right place at the right time. Maybe this can work out for him, assuming he doesn't end up dead in a ditch.   
  
Because of that last bit, he makes sure to block the door a bit with a chair so that the noise will alert him if someone tries to enter before he awakes, and he makes sure to lock the windows in such a way that they would have to be broken in order for someone to get in. Then, and only then, does he decide he can finally rest. Which, after the last couple of days that he's had? Ciro thinks he deserves it.

* * *

The second time he meets Kyoya Hibari, it's the morning after, and the name he uses by breakfast is "Chikusa", if only because his mornings can't ever be _quiet_.   
  
If the world were a perfect place by his definition of the word, then Ciro would gladly sleep in until the sun was high in the sky and he could feel any sort of energized. On rare occasions, he's gotten to do this, so he knows that's not exactly how it works... but it's what he wants nonetheless.   
  
Unfortunately, the world is not his idea of perfect, and he has had to make a habit of rising early for all manner of things, from that which is expected of a servant and that which is expected of a dastard. If he were with Ken, then he would spend most of his morning rousing the other up, and making sure that they were both on time for their duties. If he were staying with his lord, someone who'd found more than enough money for servants and a fine house both, then he would be doing most of the morning chores even before the sun had risen.   
  
Being in a nobleman's manor as some sort of _guest_ , no matter how forced, in a very nice room where he doesn't really have to do anything, is... Well, to call it a new experience seems to be understating the situation at least a little. For a second, all Ciro can do is lay there with his arms folded behind his head, and look up at a ceiling that feels far too grand for someone like him, and thus makes him automatically hate it. But there's just enough light in the room for him to tell that the sun is going to rise soon, and so he pushes himself up with some reluctance.   
  
When he's listened in on nobility before, they talked about a great deal of things. Some of it was just dull, such as business. Other times, it was about things that Ciro could never find to matter in even the slightest, such as the latest gossip or how it was truly terrible that some "upstarts" were thinking they could make associations in noble society. And yet, other times, it was about art.   
  
Specifically, there seems to be a focus nowadays on either the medieval times, which Ciro doesn't really see a point to with how it was even more miserable a life than things are now, or the Roman times. Either way, there's this idea of the... idyllic. How absolutely perfect the countryside is, in all its peaceful splendor, away from the hustle and bustle of city life or "corruption".  
  
Ciro has thought _that_ to be asinine, too. "Corruption" exists where humans exist, first of all. Secondly, even in the times that he's had to go out and about all over, well... It's just another place, right? He's had too much work to care about ridiculous things like what's _idyllic_.

It's only now that... it occurs to him how he's never actually gotten to _enjoy_ the countryside. It's always been work, or survival. Who has time to smell the roses when there's food to go shopping for, or people to spy on? He's never gotten to stand at a window and watch as the sky twists into a love letter of color over sweetly green hills. It's something that almost makes his early rise habit seem mildly worthwhile.   
  
Funnily enough, such a simple thing manages to keep his attention for a good little while, his eyes drinking in the site while his mind churns over what he should expect once breakfast is apparently served. He's not really sure what he's supposed to _do_ here, exactly, besides... wait, he guesses? Ciro has never really served for any of the gentry, although Mukuro likes to pretend he is to the unsuspecting, and no one has yet to call him out on it. He doesn't really know what other servants are supposed to do for him, a mere "water man" for a boxer that Kyoya Hibari happened to go up against. Speaking of, this is kind of a lot for just a regular person like himself... Is this a trap? Does Kyoya Hibari really not have any other and more plain rooms to put someone he's effectively kidnapped into?   
  
Ciro is still pondering that point when something catches his attention. To be more specific, it's his ears, catching the sound of what are most definitely heels pounding against the rug outside in the hall. Those aren't the sound of men's shoes... although considering that he and Kyoya Hibari met at a molly house, maybe he shouldn't put much stock into that. Warily, Ciro adjusts himself behind the table so that it's between him and the door, pondering if he should bother grabbing his shoes or not... just in time for it to be slammed wide open, with a servant's voice stuttering out, "Lady Miura, please hold!"   
  
Lady Miura only barely looks like a lady, if he's honest. He doesn't mean that there's any doubt about her sex, or her appearance. It's not that she's ugly or anything, and she's certainly wearing a dress... But her hair isn't done up in the typical manner of many ladies these days, instead hanging about her face in much the same way that Ciro's does, and there's a brilliant spark to her eyes that many so-called ladies try to hold back on "So!" she announces in an excited cheery voice, sweeping a hand out to point at Ciro. "You're the scoundrel who was bummed last night!"   
  
...Yeah. Regular ladies don't use slang like the common folk do, which Ciro considers himself a part of. "I didn't know that was me being bummed," he says dryly, definitely making sure to keep the table inbetween them now. He's met a lot of peculiar women in his life, from molly houses to just being with Mukuro all the time. There's M.M., French and prone to robbing men of their money, and Chrome, strange as a ghost even beyond her eyepatch. This Lady Miura seems peculiar in a different way and, honestly, Chikusa could have gone without that this morning.   
  
Down in the hall, there's the sound of heels clicking, and at a much slower pace, although not slow that its owner doesn't appear soon after: a woman with dark hair more properly done that Lady Miura's, and with an impressive bosom that's apparent even with her dress as it is. "If he was that sort of individual, Haru, then Hibari would have made short work of him," she tells the other woman patiently, even as her brilliant red eyes flash in Ciro's direction. "He is a guest."   
  
Lady Haru Miura seems to droop a little bit, perhaps not happy that she's missed something of an adventure, but she pops up again with all the energy of a flower come springtime. "Then that's only more interesting! Well then, if he is a guest, it is only right to introduce myself." She gives him a smile that is far from proper. "I am Haru Miura, a guest here of Kyoya's!"   
  
Yeah. She certainly does not speak of a lady, to such an extent that Ciro is absolutely positive she would make more than a few of her contemporaries swoon right into a fainting couch if they were to hear her speak at a social event. Yet almost as interesting as that is the way her and the other woman speak of Kyoya Hibari. Lady Miura is the most telling of the two, of course, in how casually she uses the man's first name. That sort of thing would be reserved for two people who had been made husband and wife. Ciro did a lot of research into Kyoya Hibari before he ever came here; he knows for a fact that the man is not wed. Surely they can't be siblings, can they? The surnames don't match up.   
  
Then there is the other woman, who nods her head politely at him even though her eyes remain sharp. "I am Lady Adelheid Shimon," she tells him. Adelheid refers to Hibari not in such a casual and familiar way... but neither does she ascribe any particular title to the man. No "lord", no "master", not a single thing. It's _just_ Hibari. Whatever the nine hells that means, well, Ciro can't say just yet.   
  
All he does is nod his head slightly. "...Ciro." He doesn't think they really need anything else besides his first name, quite frankly.   
  
Lady Miura's eyebrows raise, and she tilts her head to the side, sharp like a sparrow. "Oh, so you're not Japanese either? After Adel corrected me, I thought that surely was the other reason that Kyoya would have brought someone here! Perhaps to hire you to join the rest of his help." Lady Miura crosses her arms, humming. "But you look really similar to guys at home..."   
  
Ugh. In less than twelve hours, he's had to talk about his own lineage more than he's ever bothered to in his whole life. Ciro sighs, feeling every bit of air from him and maybe a bit of his soul leave with the action. "I'm half," he explains. "My mother called me Kakimoto Chikusa." _Allegedly_. "Lord Kyoya Hibari just said he wanted to ask more questions... I don't know what else he has planned."   
  
That's becoming something of a regular occurrence with the men in power he knows, Ciro realizes. Whether it's his own lord, or the lord of this manor. That's... more than a little bothersome.   
  
Either way, Lady Miura perks up at this bit of information. "Excellent! If that's the name your mother gave you, then you should use it more often around here, you know." Haru waggles her finger at him.   
  
Explaining all the details with... _that_ seems like it's going to take forever, and Ciro can already feel his energy for the day start to wane merely thinking about it. Fortunately, Lady Shimon steps forward and presses a hand onto her companion's shoulder. "That sort of thing can be troublesome," she tells her, matter of fact but not judgmental. "People make a great deal of fuss here in Britain about names which are strange or unknown to them."

Ciro doesn't know much about this Lady Shimon, but at least she seems to have some manner of sense to her. He can appreciate that, when he's met a great deal of people who lack it. Since it would be probably odd if he stayed too quiet for this conversation, Ciro gives a faint nod. "At least when it comes to places like France or Italy... They view them on somewhat equal level, although never exactly." The great British Empire, and all that. Ciro finds it just a bunch of hot air, and wonders how long such a thing can really last in the long run. "But Japan... is more exotic. It's hard to describe..."   
  
Or, rather, it would take a long time for Ciro to explain the many complexities of his Japanese blood and how it affects his life in Britain, or even how it affected him in Italy. He's just woken up, and, even if he hadn't... that's a lot of work he honestly really doesn't want to do.   
  
Fortunately, Lady Miura takes that in stride, nodding. "While they try to keep themselves more polite and reserved here," she says, "I've _definitely_ gotten a few strange questions and the like. Still, you don't have to worry about that here!" She sweeps her arm out, gesturing to the Hibari Manor as a whole. "Kyoya made sure to bring a lot of people from his own home back in Japan along with him for the trip, so the vast majority of people here are from our home country too! If you want to hear people call you by that name again, then this is the perfect place to do it!"   
  
It's very clearly the perfect place for a _lot_ of odd things that British society wouldn't otherwise much care from, Ciro is starting to suspect. There's all the molly houses in the immediate surroundings, the very foreign nature of Kyoya Hibari and his whole appearance, how this Lady Miura acts... but Ciro supposes the question really is _if he wants to_.   
  
Ciro has never really thought about using his Japanese name before, honestly. He was strange enough, not only in his appearance, but with his quiet personality and how he preferred to be with sorts such as the people who'd taught him to read and who the church had condemned. Going by his Japanese name... It always felt like he was just going to mark himself out even more, and he needed whatever small advantages he could get while growing up. While he's grown up. With his mother dead, or as good as dead, he's never really thought much on that part of his blood.   
  
Years of apathy but, now, in the Hibari Manor with this strange woman in front of him wearing a bright smile with even brighter eyes... "Sure," he finally says. "Call me Chikusa if you want." If nothing else, it can't really hurt anything, he figures. Besides, didn't she say that she thought it was a reason Kyoya Hibari had taken an interest in him? Maybe this can work out to his advantage.   
  
"Excellent, Chikusa!" Lady Miura says, with that same familiarity as if she's allowed it without question. Well, maybe in that respect, she really is the kind of British lady that would be looked well upon by those in this society. "You should get dressed, and we can have a morning walk before breakfast! Although in that case, maybe I should change as well." Lady Miura plucks at her dress, as though dissatisfied with a garment that is likely worth more than some people's monthly wages. "I put on the first thing that the maids could get a hold of, but it isn't my style at all!"   
  
Well.... Chikusa shrugs. "I need to dress anyway..." He glances over as one of the help finally manages to make it past Lady Shimon, setting down a fresh bowl of water for him to clean himself with and then sets what looks like a spare set of clothes off to the side as well. It's a relief that they're not particularly fancy clothes, just clearly a spare set of something that's probably from one of the servants... or maybe it was something that they retrieved from town in the last few days. Chikusa has no idea what exactly Kyoya Hibari was planning to do when it came to him and Ken, or for how long.   
  
This seems to satisfy Lady Miura more than enough, and she twirls away with her dress fluttering. "Excellent! We will meet you down the hall, so don't take too long!" Just like that, she's bounding off again, because apparently simple polite walking just wouldn't do it for her. Lady Shimon just makes sure to stay out of the way so that neither of them go crashing into each other, and gives a cool nod to Chikusa before she's off herself.   
  
His morning has already become one hell of a mess, and he hasn't even talked to Kyoya Hibari yet. Chikusa has already decided that the manor is far too lively for him.   
  
And that's his thoughts all before he's dressed or had breakfast yet. Once he's gotten the new and plain set of clothes on him again, he sets out to the end of the hallway. This is further away from the entrance, he can tell that... but he's not going to complain much about it. He wanted to learn more about Kyoya Hibari and his manor; this gives him the perfect excuse for it. Granted, he can't really explore all the different rooms just yet, so he'll accept just being allowed to go through the halls without being questioned. It's progress, no matter how small.   
  
The room waiting for him is more of a slight indent out of the hall, with some comfortable furniture for anyone who might need it. Lady Adelheid Shimon is already sitting there, patiently waiting for her partner and Chikusa alike. Normally, a man being with a woman would get some gossip started... but it's already been established that, apparently, no one in this manor cares about what is normal in Britain. If nothing else, there are also some servants nearby, so this is... he guesses acceptable? Chikusa doesn't know the exact ins and outs when it comes to etiquette of this level. He also doesn't care, instead slumping down into the spare chair that's available, with a table inbetween him and Lady Shimon as well.   
  
He isn't a gentleman, after all, just a water man who got roped into this whole mess. He can be as rude as he likes.   
  
Lady Shimon doesn't seem to care, or even look towards him all that much, instead keeping her attention focused down the hall in clear anticipation of when Lady Miura will finally get back to them. Well, considering how much effort goes into dressing up for people of this station, Chikusa isn't particularly surprised that it's taking a while. If he weren't in a strange place with strange people - which is saying a lot from his perspective - then he'd ponder just going to sleep again for a little while.

While he doesn't go to sleep, Chikusa does have to admit that he spaces out more than a little bit, and so he only realizes that Lady Miura has shown up when Lady Shimon straightens up. "There you are, Haru. I take it you're all prepared, then?" That has Chikusa blink a few times, snapping out of it, but that doesn't really help much, because when he looks over at Lady Miura again? He feels like he must still be lost inside his own head.   
  
That's because Lady Haru Miura.... definitely changed her clothes, in more ways than Chikusa thought that she would. She hasn't changed into another dress. Rather, she's changed into the kind of garments that _Kyoya Hibari_ wore - that is to say, she's in men's clothing now, trousers and waistcoat and all. They're tailored carefully to her body; these aren't just idly borrowed things. While she had been lively in her dress, she's absolutely full of vigor now as she bounds down the hall and sweeps Lady Shimon's hands in hers. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, my Adel! I wanted to find the best waistcoat for our morning!"   
  
...Ah. Chikusa thinks a lot of things are suddenly clear now, in a way that only makes sense apparently in short distance of the Hibari estate.   
  
He doesn't say anything, however. All he does is haul himself up onto his feet, and watch as Haru escorts Adelheid like a proper gentleman while the three of them make their way further through the manor, ever farther from the entrance. There's a backdoor exit once they reach the bottom floor that leads into a true and proper garden, cared for in a way that Chikusa doesn't think entirely matches Kyoya Hibari but whose existence he can understand regardless. Even if Kyoya Hibari doesn't care about flowers or the like, well, the rest of British high society certainly seems to, and it causes no harm to anyone to keep one well maintained. Besides, with what he's learned in this morning alone, it also gives a decent excuse to have more of his workers with him at the manor.   
  
If nothing else, Lady Miura seems to like it well enough as they all stroll throughout the garden, and she makes this plenty known as she chatters away about the variety of different flowers and plants which populate the garden. She talks so much that it's actually hard to get a word in... but the good news is that she's still human, and thus has lungs which require breath. When she pauses, Chikusa looks over her head towards Lady Shimon. Now that he's not so on edge, and they're out in the sunlight walking together... It hits him that she's very much as tall as he is.   
  
That's a new one, but he mostly lets it go, instead asking the thing that's really been on his mind ever since he and Ken first scoped out the town. "There seem to be a lot of backdoors in this area," he says rather plainly, trusting the woman to understand if her partner is the type who likes to use slang. Actually, just trusting her to understand in general, with the relationship that is obvious between the two of them.   
  
Lady Shimon passes him a cool gaze that doesn't give away her thoughts, as though sizing him up. After a second, something about him must pass muster, because she looks back out onto the garden again. "Most understand that this land is ruled as though by a small lord and not a part of overall Britain," she says. "They know they have certain amounts of freedom here, as long as they abide by the rules their lord has laid down. Few would make any move onto the activities, at least not while Hibari still breathes and lives in Britain."   
  
That's... more than a little interesting, Chikusa has to admit. Without the context of last night, he would just assume that the man has his own very particular rules he demands to be followed, and anything outside of that, so long as it is not happening right in front of him, is something that he couldn't spare a teaspoon of care towards. It wouldn't be the strangest thing about Kyoya Hibari, honestly. The rest of him is certainly peculiar enough. But that he'd gone to visit a molly house, that everyone seemed to know exactly how to react with his visit... That had implied a certain level of regularity, in Chikusa's eyes.   
  
There's not much time to inquire more about the issue. Lady Miura points ahead excitedly. "There we are! There's the greenhouse. Let's hurry, I bet he's already there."   
  
Chikusa had absolutely zero idea that they were _meeting_ anyone, but, sure enough, the greenhouse doors are propped wide open for immediate entrance. Who is waiting inside, well... He likely shouldn't be surprised that it's Kyoya Hibari, dressed in loose clothing and running his fingers along a fencing foil he holds in his hand. He barely looks over at the three of them as they enter the greenhouse, which is large, expansive, and in particular has an area cleared of anything right in the middle. He certainly seems to see Chikusa, but doesn't react much to him. Instead, he addresses Lady Shimon. "You were almost late."   
  
There are a couple of servants in here as well, and one of them stands in the middle of the greenhouse waiting for Lady Shimon to approach him, whereupon he offers up a fencing foil of her own to take. " _Almost_ means that I wasn't," she informs Kyoya Hibari with the kind of chill that winter aspires towards. "Speak with your actions instead of wasting breath on words." With that, the two of them take their places in the center of the greenhouse, and go into what appear to be perfect fencing stances. Chikusa can't say if they are for _certain_ or not, with that discipline being outside of his particular interests as most sports are... but his amateur eye can find no flaw.   
  
So absorbed in the utterly bizarre situation he's found himself in, Chikusa doesn't realize there's a small table for breakfast set off to the side until Lady Miura takes him by the harm and begins the process of dragging him over there. It's a bigger table than one would normally expect for simple breakfast in a greenhouse... but, distantly, Chikusa thinks of how people had pressed away from Kyoya Hibari when he had dropped in for his visit to The Far Guard, and wonders if there's a reason behind that. Well, whatever. That can be something to muse upon at a later time.   
  
In the present, he cares a _great_ deal more about the breakfast spread that has more than gladly taken advantage of the large tabletop that is available, and Chikusa could suddenly not care a wit about whatever is going on in Kyoya Hibari's life. There are a wonderful variety of breads waiting there, in baskets and on plates, all apparently piping out and straight from their ovens. Chikusa can't remember the last time he had bread so fresh. He thinks the last time he might have stolen it.

There's jams, butter, all sorts of things that one could put onto the bread... and he'll sample all of that later, to be sure. If he's had to go through the trouble of being dragged off to some nobleman's manor for difficult to discern reasons, or else he'd get turned inside out... Well, he might as well take full advantage of things where he can. Yet for right now, there's nothing better than the simple fulfilling warmth of fresh bread. Content at least in the current moment, since he doesn't know when he'll next get to enjoy himself so much, Chikusa allows his gaze to drift off towards the duel that's taking place only a few yards from him and Lady Miura.   
  
That Kyoya Hibari is as skilled in fencing as he is in brawling is not that big a surprise. Certainly, it's a bit... _much_. The man clearly already knows multiple languages, and is a champion at boxing, with the ability to force himself into success despite being in a foreign land. All of that is impressive as it is - or, rather, any single aspect of that would be impressive alone, and is overwhelming when combined. Adding even more to the list... It's ridiculous, quite frankly.   
  
And yet there's no denying his ability in the sport, jabbing away with a relentless vigor and showing footwork that most casual fencers back in London would be astounded by. If not for his personality and how utterly foreign he was, Chikusa could easily see him being extremely popular amongst both men and women alike.   
  
...Well, considering the molly houses in his territory, maybe he's still extremely popular.   
  
In comparison to that, what's almost more impressive is how Lady Shimon... manages to keep _up_ with him. Her skill seems to be just about equal to his own, and that's while she's wearing a dress and hampered in who knows what other ways. Chikusa isn't intimately familiar with it, but he knows women have a _lot_ on their person when it comes to their clothing. Yet that doesn't seem to hold Lady Shimon back at all, and her attacks are just as aggressive and demanding as Kyoya Hibari's.   
  
Busy watching what's apparently going to be his unexpected morning show, he doesn't realize Lady Miura has nudged her chair around the enormous table until she's almost right next to him, and she leans in close with a sparkle in her eye. "What do you think?" she asks purposefully, grinning widely. "My Adel is the best around, don't you think? She's so brave, strong, intelligent, and just more stunning than the stars that have been put into the sky! You agree, don't you?"  
  
He's... really getting a lot of attention and demands that he wasn't expecting this early in the morning, and frankly has never wanted. Chikusa eyes her for a moment, wondering how he can get out of this whole... everything. It doesn't feel like he has a choice, honestly. Lady Miura, from the very second that he's known her, doesn't seem like the kind of woman who takes 'no' for an answer when it comes to smashing through a conversation like a bull. "...She's definitely skilled." Hopefully that's enough of an answer. He really doesn't care about this sort of thing.   
  
Yet even a mild confirmation or reaffirmation of Lady Shimon's skill is enough for the peculiar woman he's seated besides, and Lady Miura leans back with a satisfied sigh. "She could beat most men in the world if she were allowed. It's so frustrating that she's held back, unless she tries to do what I do, but she's too beautiful to be mistaken for anything but a woman, right?"  
  
"...I'm not sure that's how it works." Chikusa leans back, finally bothering to put some butter on his bread after having eaten... he thinks five slices of bread alone. Well, it's good bread. Almost better than the regular stuff he's able to make, although he has to admit that he's likely doing it with more inferior ingredients, and always while pressed for time. "I've seen a lot of people who dress as women, even if others would say they aren't. They always seemed to belong perfectly fine to me. Even the people who some say didn't look well... I always figured I'd seen the average woman, even those who call themselves ladies, who looked about as good." With his bread buttered, Chikusa focuses on eating for a second. "So I don't get it, honestly..."   
  
As well as any fine dandy, Lady Miura props her thumb and forefinger along her chin in thought. "You know, I suppose you aren't wrong there..." Just when he's starting to think that he might have convinced someone of literally anything, Lady Miura snaps her fingers. "Then that must mean my Adel is more beautiful and amazing than any human being on earth! She's as divine as an angel!"   
  
...Well. So much for that. Munching on the rest of his breakfast, Chikusa lets his gaze drift back to the match, just in time to see Kyoya Hibari completely disarm Lady Shimon with some expert moves, her foil flipping through the air still even as he presses his tip to her chest. Lady Shimon doesn't seem _surprised_ , although that doesn't mean she's any less displeased as she frowns down at Kyoya Hibari's foil tip. "So this morning is to you, then."   
  
"As it _often_ is," Lady Shimon corrects him coldly, stepping away from him while Kyoya Hibari lowers his foil. To the side, one of the servants offers her a cloth and a small bowl so that she might clean away her sweat. "We shall see how the next morning's match shall fair."  
  
Oh, the lord and all the saints. This is a regular occurrence. Chikusa hopes he can escape from this place before he has to see that over and over again. While he's warily looking towards his future, the two fencers return to the table, and Lady Miura hastily returns her chair to its original place. As Kyoya Hibari and Lady Shimon sit down, Lady Miura quickly starts up conversation again. "You both did excellently!" Her hand flutters in Chikusa's direction. "Chikusa and I were just talking about it, and he agrees as well that it was a great match!"   
  
He said absolutely _nothing_ of the sort, but he doesn't think Lady Miura is so much lying as just... taking excessive liberties with the truth, since that's how _she_ apparently sees things. Chikusa doesn't say anything one way or another. He just continues to help himself to the bread, which is more than plentiful on the table. No need to worry about there being too little for the other three and thus getting in trouble with Kyoya Hibari more than he apparently is already.

The nobleman in question only raises an eyebrow smoothly, which Chikusa... thinks means he's intrigued, or just curious. It takes him a minute to realize why he would have such a reaction; Lady Miura _is_ using a Japanese name instead of the Italian one that Kyoya Hibari knows him by. Hell, the Italian name that everyone knows him by in Britain. Yet there's no comment on it, and Kyoya Hibari just begins to take some bread for himself as well. "Since the morning battle is finished with, there are things we need to discuss."   
  
That's... definitely one way to describe what had happened just now, but Chikusa doesn't dare to correct him. It is, technically, a correct usage of the word. Instead, it's Lady Miura who speaks up, leaning forward with a pout on her face. "Hey! Kyoya, before we get into that, you lied last night! You didn't catch a thief or any other sort of evil doer! He doesn't even know why he's here!"   
  
While Chikusa still can't say he can stomach Lady Miura's boundless energy, he _can_ appreciate how she takes charge of a conversation, and repeats the things he's already said at what is apparently the perfect moment. Ken does a lot of that, too, and so that's made him tolerable than if he were just some random stranger. Lady Miura could fill the same role, for however long he stays here.. which he really hope isn't going to be for a while.   
  
Kyoya Hibari pauses, eyeing the woman for a second as if unsure of why he should even bother wasting breath on a question. Eventually, whether because he's in a good mood or because it's Lady Miura - Chikusa doesn't know enough about the relationships in this manor to say one way or the other - he sighs and leans back. "...He came into my land saying that he was the promoter and water man of that boxer, Ken Jay." That checks out. Chikusa was never trying to hide that part of his profession. but then Kyoya Hibari continues talking. "I had some of my people look into the matter, however, and he began to pop up further as the help of at least a few different people, and the associations with those jobs was suspicious, so I brought him here when he lingered in town."  
  
...Well. Chikusa lets out a slow breath, mildly annoyed but not entirely surprised. One of the things he's always been proud about has been his ability to keep out of sight and out of mind for the vast majority of people, which is a feat considering his lanky height and foreign features. Yet he's learned, throughout his life, that people will often ignore those who don't make waves where they can see them. He might be a passing curiosity for a moment, when he first introduces himself, but, after that fleeting first impression and curiosity at his Italian name, most ignore him as he proceeds to just... not do anything notable, whether speaking or through his actions. It's part of why his lord has found him to be so valuable an asset, along with his knowledge of many other things that the common person wouldn't be good at, and even some of the gentry.   
  
Yet to exist in the world means to be known one way or the other, eventually, unless he were to completely hermit himself away in the forests of mountains where no one would dare to tread... and even then, so long as he continued to live, the chance would rise every day that someone would discover him.   
  
Those chances rise exponentially now that he's moved to Britain under the service of his lord, constantly being roped into his various schemes and ideas. For him, well, Chikusa has of course done whatever has been asked of him... But he has to admit that's made sure his name and face have become a little more known. With every person that he runs into, the chances that he's remembered, that someone thinks to look into what he's done and been doing... Well. It all speaks for itself.   
  
In a completely expected move, Lady Miura whirls on Chikusa again, while Lady Shimon just patiently drinks her tea with absolutely no reaction to this news. "So you _are_ a scoundrel!" she says, sounding far happier about this news than any proper lady ought to. The reason for this soon becomes clear, when she continues on with, "That's perfect! There's nothing but scoundrels here, along with my lovely Adel, so you'll fit right in!" She even leans over the table a bit in Chikusa's direction, eyes sparkling again. "If Kyoya doesn't kill you first, then I need to talk with you more so that you can help advise me on some of the characters we have!"   
  
...So. Being killed and dumped in a ditch really is a serious possibility that he needs to consider, and wasn't just him being overly cautious. At least he can feel satisfied in knowing he was right all along.   
  
While Chikusa comes to terms with this knowledge and tries to decipher the rest of Lady Miura's words, Kyoya Hibari blinks and raises a hand in gesture towards her. "This is Miura Haru," he says by way of introduction, as if he hadn't just kidnapped Chikusa last night, and the woman in question hadn't just outright side there was a decent chance Chikusa could be murdered today. "She is the patron of many theatres throughout Britain... and supports screenplay writers as well. She's also involved in my businesses..."   
  
Ah. So that explains what she meant by "characters". It also, to no small extent, explains some of her exuberant and... unique personality. From Chikusa's personal experience, those who are involved in the arts often tend to be unique "characters" themselves, even off of the stage. No wonder she has clothing tailored for herself that would normally belong on a man... Chikusa faintly wonders if she has any of the amusing or interesting plays going on at her theatres. Ken has never appreciated a play in his entire life, but Chikusa has enjoyed a couple, here and there, when he's actually cared to spend his money. Assuming he really doesn't die, maybe he'll look into just what sort of stories come from a person like _this_.   
  
Kyoya Hibari continues, hand moving towards the other woman at the table. "This is Shimon Suzuki Adelheid. She runs the Shimon family alongside the heir, and is taking care of their businesses here in Britain." Just another cool nod from the lady in question.   
  
This is interesting as well... Chikusa had assumed that Lady Shimon to be of Germanic blood, but that middle name and the way Kyoya Hibari had introduced her also hint of a Japanese background in some way. Her features don't carry with it the obvious trademarks that are apparent in him, or Lady Miura, or even Chikusa himself... but there's still something to her that catches his attention in a subtle way, and there _had_ been something vaguely familiar about her, but he'd dismissed that when they first met.   
  
The Hibari Manor really is the most bizarre and interesting place.

With introductions done with as good manners demands, Kyoya Hibari takes a bit of his breakfast before focusing entirely on Chikusa in a way that makes him feel as though he's indeed a rat having been spotted by an eager terrier. "Now then, Kakimoto Chikusa... We discuss _your_ profession, and what exactly you meant to do here in my territory. Have you had a night to consider whether your teeth or your _patron_ are more important than the other?" In his free hand, he pointedly spins a butter knife, with the intent clear: he could disembowel Chikusa right there on the breakfast table if he so chose to, and it's all dependent on Chikusa's answer.   
  
Ugh. So he really didn't let that go, although that still doesn't explain the polite way he's been treated for this entire stay, brief as it's been. He's even allowed Chikusa to watch him fence, and treated him to breakfast. Is this some sort of bizarre intimidation tactic? And, if it is, is it more something unique to Japan, or is this purely a bizarre trait of Kyoya Hibari? Was the whole fencing match meant to be a _point_?  
  
Sighing, Chikusa takes a croissant to bite into this time, because if he's going to die one way or the other, he'd like his last moments to have something pleasurable in them. He'd really rather die trying to get back to his lord, or Ken, however... Well, he'll see how things turn out. If nothing else, he can slide under the table, maybe use some of the plants to help get in the way of Kyoya Hibari _immediately_ murdering him... "I still only have what I said last night," he murmurs in response. "My patron became interested in you, and wanted to see how you would react. I don't know why. I don't know if he had anything else in mind. I won't give his name away. So if you're going to kill me, can I at least get a running head start..."   
  
Something about his statement, perhaps the bluntness of it all, makes Lady Miura giggle, and Lady Shimon casts an appraising glance over him once again. "That is rather commendable loyalty to someone who is only one patron out of many," the latter says, and he can't tell if that's approval in her tone or not.   
  
If there's something he can be thankful for, it's that apparently Hibari's servants weren't able to uncover that all his "patrons" and "lords" are the same person. That would reveal a far bigger web of a scheme than anything else. However, individually, on their own with the different tasks he has from the "different patrons", nothing really stands out or is particularly strange. Sure, they may be _illegal_ or _immoral_ , but they don't stand out based on just those attributes.   
  
Chikusa doesn't like the effort that's required for outright lying, but deception exists in other forms. So, instead of answering, he just takes another bite of his bread and eyes the people at the table. "Are the people at the molly house in town loyal to it when they say nothing?" is what he says instead. It's an answer without being an answer, and it seems to do enough, because Lady Shimon just gives a small hum of acknowledgment.   
  
Figuring out Kyoya Hibari's emotions is, as usual, a lot harder, but maybe that's almost better than the alternative, because the alternative soon becomes a sharp and eager little smirk drawn across the man's face. Chikusa doesn't like that.   
  
"You said you wanted a head start, didn't you...?"  
  
...Yeah, he definitely doesn't like that.   
  
When Chikusa reluctantly nods, Kyoya Hibari only widens his smirk. "Then I will give you a proposal." He doesn't even pretend to give Chikusa the illusion of choice with his word choice. It's not _make_ a proposal. Kyoya Hibari is giving it to him. "You will get five minutes as this head start you so desire. Once those minutes are up, then I will pursue you. If you manage to evade me, then I will permit you to return to the town and your boxer partner with the use of one of my carriages and drivers. If you attempt to evade me by getting off of the manor property, then I will kill you."  
  
Chikusa can't say those are the most pleasant stakes to be made... but they sound simple enough so far. Stuffing himself with another croissant, Chikusa eyes him warily. "And if you catch me?"  
  
"Then you will proceed to take on a job from _me_ , and I will keep you here to fulfill it."  
  
... Alright. Well. Chikusa has to admit, he was expecting more another form of murder, and not the use of his services. For a second, he just blinks, and tries to process that. "...You want me to work for you?" A pause, and he gives a heavy sigh. "...Not for the rest of my life... right..." He feels he needs to clarify that, just in case. When it comes to so-called gentleman and ladies, or really human beings in general, clarifying details and making sure exact words are right is never a waste of time.   
  
Kyoya Hibari's smirk doesn't waver. "We'll see," he says, which continues to not fill Chikusa with confidence. "I don't intend this job to accomplish that, however."  
  
So a future job might aim for that instead? Ugh. There are just more and more reasons piling up for why he isn't looking forward to any of this. Chikusa sighs again, before he finally nods down at the breakfast spread before them. "Can we wait an hour before starting, at least...? I just ate..." He ate a lot, actually, which might have been his own fault, but he couldn't have expected something like this to be thrown his way. Who could have?  
  
Fortunately, while they do seem far too used to the kind of ridiculous nonsense which surrounds Kyoya Hibari, Ladies Shimon and Miura appear to be on his side, as the former thins her lips in his direction. "He's right. If you want anything even remotely in the vicinity of a challenge, it's best to have your opponent at their best. You should have done this before we all sat down to ate." To the side, Lady Miura nods in agreement with her lover.   
  
"I was going to deal with whichever of you came down here first," Kyoya Hibari says dismissively, picking up some bread himself, this spread liberally with some sort of sweet jam. "You interrupted my plans. Still, I'll agree to those terms."  
  
With a morning of running and sweating now looming over him, Chikusa declines eating anything else, and instead just... sits in place, listening as the three others at the table converse. Well, it seems to be mostly the ladies who talk, while the lord of the manor just listens in with only the occasional interjection. There's a lot of talk about business on all three of their sides, although sometimes Lady Miura takes over the discussion with a spirited chat about just how things are going in the entertainment side of her many endeavors. It's all very fascinating information to have, and which he's sure his lord would appreciate... You know, assuming he really can make it out of here with his head still on his shoulders.

They all continue on for a good hour, even after breakfast has been finished, and it's not only Chikusa who's been keeping track of the time. One of the servants eventually approaches the master of the house, bending down to murmur something into his ear, and Kyoya Hibari waves him off before he rises to his own feet. Chikusa isn't a fool; he understands what's coming next. So he gets up as well, warily edging towards the greenhouse entrance and sole exit already even as his opponent makes his way over to the servants who are still holding onto the fencing foils from before.   
  
"We agreed it was five minutes, didn't we?" he asks, taking a pocketwatch out to glance at it idly. "Then on my mark, your five minutes will begin." By this point, Chikusa has already made it to the doorframe, and the only reason he hasn't tried to make it over the threshold himself is because he doesn't want to test the man's patience much more, when he's threatened disposing of him so easily. All he does is nod, not visibly tense but certainly feeling it. That appears to be enough for Kyoya Hibari, as he falls silent for a few seconds, until- " _Go_."   
  
Chikusa doesn't hesitate. Like a bullet, he shoots off out of the greenhouse with the distant delighted shout of Lady Miura at his back. He's well versed in having to run away from a fight, or from getting caught. Usually that's in the thick of the city, with its complicated alleys and busy streets. Only sometimes has he had to do it in the country side, and that's been less from Mukuro's schemes and more because Ken often gets in trouble which inevitably drags Chikusa into it. In the fancy garden of a nobleman's manor... This is a new one, but the change of scenery doesn't affect as much as one might think.   
  
Most of the bushes aren't tall enough to really hinder, at least not for a person like him, and he leaps over most of them as he goes straight towards the mansion. He'd considered trying to use the garden to his advantage... but, not only does he not want the hot sun to make him sweat more than he already is guaranteed to, but the garden is too open in a lot of ways. A tall person like him will be easily spotted among the rosebushes, and hiding behind a tree is just far too childish to properly work. So, for him... It's better if he makes it to a place that's a lot harder to search with a single sweep of the entire area. The manor, with all its hallways and rooms... that will be far better for what he needs.   
  
But going through the back door - ha - would be far too simple in this case, and get him caught all the sooner. As he leaps over bushes and runs through paths, Chikusa casts a quick look over this side of the manor. It doesn't take him very long to find what he's looking for: an open window, there on the second floor. Gritting his teeth, Chikusa corrects his course so that he's headed for the wall right underneath it... before he makes a running jump right towards one of the ground floor windows.   
  
This isn't the first time he's had to make his way over or up a wall... The city streets practically demand it sometimes, although usually Chikusa has gone at a slower pace to simply get over a fence, or up to a roof, or to simply wait there high up because some people never look skywards when they're trying to track someone down. A manor's walls like this is a bit different... But with the help of a window frame, some decent footholds, and his long reach, Chikusa manages to grab a hold of the second floor opening and slips right in. He thinks he can hear another whoop from Lady Miura, but he doesn't really stop to confirm one way or the other.   
  
Just making his way into the room of the manor makes a huge different, with the air much cooler than outside thanks to the shadows and sweet breeze which is flowing in... but it's not like he can really stop to catch his breath or relax right now. He really doesn't want to deal with being caught... so, unfortunately he has to keep moving. Yet even as he heads to the door of the room - some sort of simple library space as far as he can tell - Chikusa is already wondering where he can even go.   
  
The first thought, of course, is the most obvious one: the bedroom that he was given. On one hand, it's incredibly obvious and the very first location that most people would think to peek into. And yet, on the other hand, it's because it's so obvious that a person with an ounce of thought in them would think the very same and thus skip over it. Kyoya Hibari is pretty intelligent; Chikusa could use that against him.   
  
Or then it could just end up as a game of "he thought so I thought but he thought I would think" sort of nonsense.... and, if he's come off as a cautious type beforehand, it might play into his character too much. The more risky option is to explore the manor that he knows next to nothing about.... so, after peeking his head in the hallway to make sure that it's clear, Chikusa decides to go with that.   
  
Most of the rooms have been near to each other, as could be expected of a manor where one wouldn't want to walk _too_ far to their study, or library, or whatever other rooms rich people of status have in their home. Yet this one is explicitly furthest from all of them, having an entire hallway all to itself. Chikusa has already made up his mind even before he reaches the door, slipping in quietly without stopping for even thought.

He couldn't say he exactly _suspected_ that the room would be the lord of the manor's own bedroom, but he was right in that it was definitely unique for a reason... And in more ways than one. Then again, he supposes that, with all he's learned in the last twelve hours, it's not a surprise to see that the man has done up his room as close to a Japanese style bedroom as he possibly could with all the limitations of a British manor, including movable and thin paper walls for the illusion of changing with brilliantly done paintings on its surface. Unfortunately, this means his bed is definitely not in the typical British style, instead being blankets spread along the floor.   
  
What a real nuisance... If it were the average British bed, then Chikusa was thinking he could slip underneath it as a hiding spot. While his height wouldn't have worked out for him in the garden, he's more than thin enough to be under a bed. Oh well. With the clock almost ticking right in his skull, Chikusa quickly looks around before he makes his decision. Whether or not this room was truly a good idea, it's the choice he's made, and he can't afford to change it now. There's a heavy set of foreign armor in the corner, near some curtains that have been pulled to the side. For a regular British display of armor, Chikusa wouldn't think of it, because there's no way he would be able to hide behind it without his legs being seen between the gasps... But this one has been put onto display in a seated position, and that should be enough cover for every bit of him.   
  
Well, there's only one way to really find out, honestly. If this is successful... Well, he'll have to wait and see. Shifting his shoes off in case he needs to make a silent escape, Chikusa draws himself into a crouched position behind the armor, makes sure that none of his person is visible, and holds his breath.   
  
Maybe for a regular person, if they were ever in such a bizarre situation, they would make a proper racket as they'd go running throughout the manor in search of him, laughing or swearing or throwing open doors. Kyoya Hibari isn't a regular person, in all the ways that could possibly mean. Chikusa doesn't even realize the man has entered the manor, even the _hallway_ , until maybe ten minutes into this waiting game, and he hears the door to Kyoya Hibari's bedroom swing open.   
  
It's impressive... Even just hearing the man walk puts the hairs on the back of Chikusa's neck up on end. It reminds him of the way a predator might walk, slow and unhurried, taking in the scent of their prey. Chikusa thinks he could go without feeling like this for the rest of his life, honestly. Yet there's no time to get lost in his own mental complaining. He has to put all of his attention towards the sound of Kyoya Hibari's footsteps, listening to the way his shoes quietly scuff against the floor. It was only for a moment, but Chikusa feels he was still able to get a pretty good glance of the room's layout. As he listens, he tries to chart it in a mental map he's made.   
  
If he's going that way... Then Chikusa is fairly certain that he's headed to a door he'd seen in the opposite corner of the room, and which he's fairly certain leads to a bathroom. That's how these sort of places should work... and he can't think of what else might be in there. Everything else seems to be accounted for. Taking a risk, he carefully maneuvers his head to peer around the suit of armor. It's a relief to find that Kyoya Hibari is indeed heading towards that door. Resisting the urge to lick his lips or make the slightest sound, Chikusa lets his gaze flick towards the door. Wide open.   
  
The safer thing to do would be to wait until his pursuer has stepped inside the bathroom, blocking his vision to the rest of the bedroom and also offering some obstacles in the way of his hearing. But a bathroom isn't very large... He could look over it in just a handful of seconds. Those are seconds which could be valuable to Chikusa, as he could double back to one of the other rooms to hide in next while Kyoya Hibari is under the impression they've been cleared.   
  
Well, if he wanted a safe career, he could have done a lot of different things before ever even _thinking_ about working for his lord. Trusting as his ability to stay utterly silent, Chikusa takes great pains to avoid disturbing the suit of armor as he slips out of his hiding spot while Kyoya Hibari has his back turned, and immediately begins to make his way over to the door.   
  
He almost manages it. He almost makes it. Chikusa can tell in the pit of his stomach that he almost makes it, with no hubris attached to the thought. Yet the second he's only a couple of steps away, church bells seem to go ringing in alarm in his head. Without waiting to think or confirm, Chikusa whirls around. He has long legs, a kick could buy him just a quick second and a little bit of space-   
  
Yet he doesn't have a chance to so much as lift his foot off of the floor before his back is up against the wall right besides the door and there's a fencing foil pressed one of his arms, keeping it pinned where he had tried to reach around the doorframe. Kyoya Hibari presses flush against him, knee slid inbetween Chikusa's legs and their heartbeats nearly colliding against one another. In comparison to the all encompassing darkness that had resided in his eyes last night, that impossible to read shade, his gaze now is as brilliantly silver as his weapon, and filled to the brim with excitement. " _Caught_."   
  
It's been a long time since he was manhandled so roughly; Chikusa is usually quick enough to avoid such fights until Ken can clean them up. So when he has, well, let's just say it was for more personal reasons. It's impossible to ignore the faint stirrings of heat in the pit of his stomach, right beneath his pounding heart. Honestly, it's kind of annoying, and more than a little inopportune. This really isn't the time to be turned on by anything. "Caught," Chikusa agrees mildly, since there's no real getting out of this one. In the back of his head, he wonders how on earth Mukuro is going to take this news, and just how much he'll laugh at him for the whole tale he'll need to give context.   
  
He's expecting Kyoya Hibari to be satisfied with just that, to step away and drag Chikusa about like he has... pretty much ever since they were formally introduced, and a little before that. Instead, he leans in even closer, straightening his posture a little bit in the process while still keeping his leg right where it is. There's a height difference between them, because there's a height difference between Chikusa and most people. This doesn't seem to stop Kyoya Hibari at all from getting right into his space, as though trying to seek something out in his very skin. He seems... _delighted_ , almost, teeth just bared between his lips. "You were better than I thought you would be," he murmurs. "You're not a mere scoundrel, or water man."

Now really _is_ a wretched moment to feel arousal. The human body truly is cursed by God. Chikusa is already pressed up against the wall as much as he can be, so, with nowhere else to go, he just eyes Kyoya Hibari right back. "I'd prefer it if I was so," he answers plainly.   
  
"What languages are you fluent in?"   
  
Answering feels like it's only asking for trouble. Not answering feels like it would almost certainly lead him to death. Chikusa decides to answer upfront. "I can speak English and Italian as well as each other."   
  
"French?"  
  
"I can extrapolate enough to understand a conversation, but not enough to partake in one."   
  
"Hm. Japanese?"   
  
He figured that would be next on the list. The fact that it's Kyoya Hibari's room they're standing to that made it a sort of foregone conclusion. "I know the kanji for my name that my mother gave me... but she stopped being a part of my life when I was young..."   
  
The sound of Kyoya Hibari's fingers wringing into the handle of his foil is just faintly perceptible to his ears, and the man clearly seems to be losing himself in thought. Chikusa almost doesn't know what's going on in his skull, even though it's not as though he gets a choice in the matter anymore. All he can do is wait there, and do his best to ignore the way Kyoya Hibari smells faintly of a forest after a spring rain. He didn't even know a human person could smell like that. Is it because of how he was in the greenhouse not that long ago?  
  
The sound of his former pursuer and now employer's voice snaps him out of it, and Chikusa refocuses on him. "Then that is the job I will have you start on first. You will stay in my manor, and be taught Japanese - speaking it and writing it."   
  
...His life has been far too strange lately, especially in the last day or so, and Chikusa wishes he could do it all over again. Maybe he'd go to another molly house, if he'd known what weird twists his life would go through. Well, it's too late now. Although he has to say... "That doesn't sound like much of a job," he mutters, trying extremely hard to ignore how they're so close that they practically share the same breath. It's not just the scent of spring, but something gently fruity as well. The jam from breakfast, most likely.   
  
"It will be the first of many jobs," Kyoya Hibari says, like that was a foregone conclusion as well. Ugh. Chikusa can't say he wasn't expecting it either, from a man like this. "Every person who I keep has to know Japanese."   
  
So insistent... "Can I at least go finish my other job... so that I can get paid..." He's going to have to tell Mukuro about this, see how this changes any plans of his, and figure out who they'll have watch over Ken if only so that the blond doesn't go and start trouble they didn't want started.   
  
Kyoya Hibari seems to consider this for a moment as well. "So you agree to these terms?"   
  
Pointing out that they both know he doesn't have a choice doesn't seem like it will get him anywhere. Chikusa knows a lost cause when he sees one. "Mm. I guess so."   
  
That finally seems to satisfy the nobleman, and he at long last pulls away from Chikusa to give him some air that is his own. "Good. I'll have Kusakabe prepare your things. Other servants will prepare for the long trip back to whatever city you live at in order to get your things. I will expect you back within the month." That's just like a nobleman... He's making demands and orders without any regard for anything else. Maybe it doesn't matter if it's Britain, Japan, or Italy, the rich will always behave exactly the same... Chikusa is tired thinking about the days that are waiting for him. While he pre-emptively gets tired, Kyoya Hibari appraises him once more before that smirk crawls back onto his face, more subdued than before. "I take back my assessment before... You aren't a rat crawling about my territory."   
  
Huh? Oh, right. Chikusa thinks he recalls the man saying something about that, the night before. Unable to help being anything but curious, Chikusa doesn't move from his place against the wall and only raises an eyebrow up. "Then... what am I?"   
  
"A stray feline... I think that suits you quite well." His eyes are still shining that brilliant warning silver. "I didn't think someone so slow and quiet like you could move so quickly... or disappear so easily to places no one else can reach in such a manner. When you were still, in hiding, I couldn't find you at all... My senses only told me my prey was here through considerable experience, once you began to move."   
  
He... _thinks_ he's being complimented. Maybe. Chikusa can't say he's ever been called a "cat" before. Mostly it's been insults. His eyebrow stays raised up. "Then... isn't it rude to collar a stray cat without its say so...?"  
  
With his foil's length resting lightly in one hand, Kyoya Hibari only looks distantly amused at him. "I have never met a cat collared by myself that has regretted it." With that said, he begins to walk past Chikusa and right out the door. "I expect you down in the foyer in ten minutes, Kakimoto Chikusa." And with that, he disappears.   
  
Once the sound of footsteps has vanished down the hallway, Chikusa begins to slide down against the wall until his legs are sprawled out in front of him, and he heaves out a sigh longer than he is tall. Mukuro... is going to make fun of him so much, and then tell him to do it.   
  
His life just can't be simple.

**Author's Note:**

> Mist Day: Historical AU 
> 
> i have never written a historical au in my life, but somehow it seemed fitting for hibari, and my friends, when asked about historical AUs, suggested regency, so i looked up the regency era page on tv tropes and did you know this is the time period where boxing really kicked off? 
> 
> anyway hibari being a boxer was an obvious choice
> 
> if i could have access to a scanner, i definitely would have drawn hibari pinning chikusa to the wall with his fencing, but i am stuck to writing so here we are
> 
> I feel like I could make this a multichapter fic? But that would require knowing more about the Regency Era and stories and tropes and I really don't want to lmao. I'm lazy. I apologize.


End file.
